Pokeable
by KittyMcafee
Summary: Pippin comes down with the flu after falling into a river, and Merry has to take care of him, during which several completely pointless pokes are exchanged. Sorry, I'm bored. This is not a slash story, I hate those. This is, however, my first oneshot.


There was a soft _plop_ as Merry's hook and worm dropped into the water. The surface of the dark river swallowed it up in an instant. The canoe rocked sideways lightly as it made a half-turn in the water, pushed by a light current. Merry stood up and grabbed onto a branch overhead and pulled the canoe closer to the bank.

"Careful, Merry! You're scaring away all the fish." Pippin said sullenly as a fish down in the river was scared away from his worm.

"I have to make sure we don't float away into the middle of the river. The current's too strong to paddle against there, remember what happened to Farmer Maggot last spring?" Merry replied, sitting down on the canoe again and taking up his pole again.

"Of course I remember. But you're standing up so frequently that I don't have a decent chance to catch a fish before you scare it away." Pippin lamented.

Merry sighed and gave up the conversation. He gazed around the willow-lined bank. From the willow branches, great carpets of green moss hung low from the bark, created quite a beautiful scene. Merry smiled and sat back in the canoe. This was his favorite fishing spot. He and Pippin would come here every Thursday and go fishing. It was their little tradition. Sam and Frodo never came along much, so the two cousins had a lot of bonding time. Whenever they would come, Merry and Pippin would bring a rope and tie one end to a willow tree and the other end to the canoe. But Pippin had forgotten the rope, so Merry, the taller of the two, was stuck with the tedious task of using the overhead branches to pull them back to shore. Pippin was too short to do this, or Merry would have made _Pippin_ do it.

There was a long, still silence, broken by the occasional cicada and the twittering of sparrows in the trees. A brilliant blue kingfisher dove into the water with a splash and pulled out a juicy fish. He swallowed it with one gulp, then flapped away.

That was when Merry received the most unexpected poke in the side.

"Pippin, don't poke me!" Merry grumbled.

"I didn't poke you, the dragonfly did!" Pippin pointed to a dragonfly sitting on the bow of the boat.

"I've been watching that dragonfly for the past three minutes and it hasn't moved. And dragonflies don't like to poke people, unlike you, Pippin."

"But you're so... So... _Pokeable_!"

"I don't care how pokeable I am, I don't like to be poked. Next time you poke me, I'll throw you into the river, put a hook through you and serve you for supper. In fact, I'll get the whole of the Shire for a giant Pippin Barbecue. I'm sure Farmer Maggot would come for seconds, he's been wanting to cook and eat you alive since you ran away with his prize pumpkin last year."

"I don't think I would taste very good, not very tender." Pippin said, giving himself a light pinch on the arm. Merry reached over and pinched Pippin so hard that he gasped in pain.

"Yup, you're tender enough." Merry said, going back to fishing.

"Merry, that hurt!" Pippin hiccoughed as he fought back tears.

"Oh, take it like a man, Pippin!"

"I don't want to take it like a man, men are stupid these days." Pippin said, sniffling and wiping the tears from his eyes.

"Then take it like a hobbit-man. You'll never impress any girls this way."

That shut Pippin up.

Then...

"Merry! I've got one!" Pippin shouted, before he fell into the water, pulled over by the force of the fish trying to escape.

"Pippin!" Merry shouted as Pippin floundered around in the water.

"Help, Merry! I'm drowning!" Merry reached out his hand, but the current gently carried Pippin out of reach and towards the middle of the river, where the current would easily carry Pippin down the river and towards the rapids.

"Pippin!" Merry cried again, grabbing the oar and paddling furiously after his cousin. He wasn't fast enough. As Pippin drifted towards the fastest part of the river, Merry couldn't keep up. Pippin was carried out of sight by the rushing current. Merry swore loudly and viciously. He couldn't go into the middle, he would be carried away too. That wouldn't help anyone, so Merry paddled back to shore and began running along the shore.

"Pippin! Where are you?" Merry cried again and again, running as fast as his legs could carry him. Then he saw Pippin clinging onto a rock in the middle of the river. Merry clambered out on the branch of a strong willow and dangled a hand down to Pippin. A dazed and drenched Pippin grasped Merry's hand and his cousin pulled him up onto the branch. Merry helped Pippin across the branch and onto solid ground. Pippin leaned heavily on Merry's shoulder.

"Merry, I don't feel well. My tummy hurts." Pippin said.

"You probably just swallowed a little river water. Come on, Pip, let's get you home."

--

Frodo opened the door to his hole to find two wet and bedraggled hobbits standing in his doorway. One was definitely more wet than the other, the other looked like he had just been rained on or something. He finally figured out who it was after a couple moments.

"Merry! Pippin! What happened?" He asked.

"Pippin fell into the river. We need to get him warm right away." Merry said, supporting Pippin as they both stumbled into Bag End.

"Merry, you get Pippin into some dry clothes and I'll make a fire." Frodo said, throwing Merry a pair of Pippin's nightclothes.

Merry helped Pippin into some dry clothes, then towled his hair.

"Next time, Pippin, you remember to bring the rope." Merry sighed as he looked over Pippin. Now his bedclothes were wet, and his hair looked quite frazzled. It was all really pathetic.

Merry threw Pippin a dry towel and led him out to the warm, crackling fire. Frodo took one look at Pippin and smacked Merry on the back of his head.

"You were supposed to towel him down _before_ putting on his bedclothes!"

Merry blushed and smiled sheepishly.

"You'll have to do better than that! Bilbo's going away to Rivendell again, and I'm going to see him off. I'll be back in three days. You'd better take good care of Pippin, because I don't be here! If you have any trouble, just ask Sam. Sam comes here every day around tea time to do the gardening. After tea, of course."

Merry nodded.

"I'll see you in three days, I'll be off." And before Merry could say anything else, Frodo had walked out the door.

"Some cousin to leave me with Pip to take care of!" Merry grumbled.

Merry looked over to Pippin by the fire. He was still shivering. Merry, despite himself, took pity upon the little hobbit. He walked over, threw a couple logs on the fire and got Pippin some blankets. Merry toweled Pippin's hair off a little and threw the blankets around him. The poor little hobbit sighed and gently closed his eyes. Merry smiled. This wasn't so bad.

"Would you like something to eat, Pippin?" Merry asked.

Pippin shook his head. "I'm not hungry."

This put Merry on alert. Pippin not hungry? There had to be something wrong.

"Well, I'm making chicken soup, just let me know if you want some later."

Pippin nodded and snuggled into the blankets, his eyes still closed. Merry walked into the kitchen and poured some water into a pot for the soup. He had just cut up the chicken and was about to put it into the boiling water when he heard a raspy voice call, 'Merry!'.

Merry walked into the living room.

"Yes, Pippin?"

"I'm thirsty. Could you please get me some water?"

"Sure thing, Pip. Be right back."

Merry poured some cold water into a glass and handed it to Pippin. He took a sip and coughed.

"That's cold! Can I please have warm water?"

"But you always like your water cold!" Merry said, confused.

"I'm too cold to drink cold water." Pippin whined.

Merry sighed and poured Pippin some warm water. He handed it to Pippin, who took a sip and said, "That's too warm, Merry!"

Merry groaned. He took the warm water back to the kitchen and pulled out a third glass. He poured some warm water into the glass, and topped it with cold water. Merry dipped his finger into the water. Not too cold, not too hot. He gave it to Pippin, who took a sip and sighed.

"That's just right, Merry. Thanks." Pippin downed the glass in a couple gulps, then promptly fell asleep.

Merry sighed and smiled. He gently picked up a now warm and dry Pippin and carried him to his bedroom. Merry lay his brother down in his bed, tucked him in, and left the gently snoring hobbit to his dreams.

Merry gave up on the soup, it was far too late to eat, and if he ate too late he wouldn't sleep well. And he was tired, so he retired to his own bed and curled up. He was gently drifting off to dreamland when an uncomfortable grunting was heard from Pippin's bedroom next door. Yawning, Merry got out of bed and went to check on his cousin.

Pippin was tossing and turning about in his sheets.

"Merry, is that you?" Pippin moaned.

"It's me, Pip, what's wrong?" Merry asked, concerned for his poor relative's health.

"I'm c-c-cold and my t-tummy hurts." Pippin groaned, rolling over and clutching his stomach.

_Poor Pip..._ Merry thought, _He must be coming down with a bad case of the flu._

"Wait here, Pip, I'll be right back." Merry said. He walked into the kitchen, fetched a pot for Pippin, and plunked it down on his bedside.

"Just in case." He muttered as he threw a couple extra blankets over Pippin. Pippin retched and grabbed the pot. When it was all over, Merry fetched a fresh pot and was left with the extremely unpleasant task of dealing with it's contents. He ended up taking the foul-smelling contents of the pot and dumping it into onto Farmer Maggot's doorstep. There was sweet revenge for all the times the old farmer had chased Merry and his cousin for stealing a few measly mushrooms.

By the time Merry got back, Pippin seems to be in slightly better condition, but he now had a high fever and beads of sweat were rolling down his cheeks and forehead. Merry sighed and wiped all the excess sweat off of poor Pippin's forehead, then applied a cold cloth to it.

His head soothed by the cloth, Pippin began to relax. His breathing calmed and he stopped tossing and turning.

"Sorry Merry." Pippin muttered.

"Sorry for what?"

"For making you stay up so late. I know how cranky you get when you don't get enough sleep." Pippin whispered.

"I do not get cranky!" Merry snapped before realizing what he had said, "Oh, all right, maybe I do, but that's not an excuse for not taking care of you Pippin. I'm your cousin, it's my job. If you honestly thought I would abandon you, then you need a new brain. You've needed one since you were five, it's about time you got that old, dusty one replaced."

Pippin smiled and closed his eyes. Within moments, he was fast asleep.

Merry didn't get a wink of sleep that night. Every half hour, he had to change the cloth on Pip's forehead to keep his fever down. And he kept a close watch on him all night, just in case something serious happened. Nothing much happened, although Pippin was sick again at around three in the morning. Merry ended up depositing this on Farmer Maggot's scarecrow. It looked ten times more interesting than before, now that it had slimy, gooey, smelly stomach juice all over it.

When the sun finally rose, Merry fell asleep. That was when Pippin woke up.

Pippin sat up and looked around. He was in his room. Merry was fast asleep, sitting lopsidedly on an old wooden chair looking like he was about to fall off it. A faint, strange odor lingered in the room. Pippin rubbed his temples. His head hurt.

But only one thought registered in Pippin's numb mind. Merry was asleep. Normally, that would mean mischief time, but he was too ill for mischief, so he had to contend with being an annoyance.

He leaned forward and poked Merry. Nothing. He poked again. Nothing. He poked again...

"WILL YOU STOP IT?!" Merry roared, jerking to life all of a sudden. Pippin was scared out of his wits. He fell over backwards out of bed and onto the floor.

"Sorry, Merry, you're just so... Pokeable!"

Merry scoffed.

"If I'm so 'pokeable', then that means you're feeling better."

"A little, but I still feel like I've had too much ale. My head hurts."

Merry cracked his knuckles and grinned evilly. "If you want to, I could punch that headache right out of your head..."

"No thanks!" Pippin said quickly, "But I could do with a little breakfast."

--

Over the next few days, Pippin recovered from his nasty bout of the flu. And Merry couldn't have been happier. The good news rolled in. Farmer Maggot had broken his leg from slipping on Pippin vomit, which left his fields open and up for grabs. His scarecrow no longer looked like a scarecrow, so the giant clouds of crows could be seen descending upon the corn fields like black fog, offering a very entertaining sight. Merry couldn't have been happier. Frodo returned from his journey to find the place surprisingly tidy.

"My, my, what have you two been up to?" Frodo asked, suspicious.

"Nothing really." Merry and Pippin said at once. Frodo gazed at them warily.

"Are you sure? I heard something about Farmer Maggot and a mysterious pile of slime. Judging by your history, I want to hear everything you did. _Everything_."

Merry and Pippin looked at each other briefly, then led Frodo into the living room to tell him the tale.

--

Sorry about the whole vomit thing, but I had to make this thing funny somehow!


End file.
